The Promise
by Scorch-Flame
Summary: Joey made Bendy promise not to spill a word. The demon agreed. Oh, how he wished he hadn't.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Bendy, do you know why I designed you after a demon?"

The ink creature puffed his cigar, raising a nonexistent eyebrow at the man in front of him. The man, his creator, was stooped down so he was eye to eye with the demon. Bendy always found his creator a bit odd, especially when he was crouching like that.

"Nah, I dunno," the demon replied casually. "Always thought t'was one of ya aesthetics or somethin'."

The man gave him an amused smile.

"Well, yeah," he admitted," I've always found demons to be pretty great. But that's not the main reason." The man leaned backward, placing his weight on the balls of his feet. "No, no. Demons... are stronger than angels. Angels have their frumpy harps and bright halos, but they don't really do anything, understand?"

Bendy gave him a small nod, flicking his crudely made tail. The man gave him a proud glance.

"Demons, now- demons are different. Better. They, you, actually do the dirty work. You fight with every tooth and nail. You simply do what you have to do."

"What's da point of this, Joe?" Bendy dragged the remnants of his cigar across the floorboards, snuffing out the sparks. "Quit ramblin' and get to the point." Joel's smile remained persistent, something the little devil had to give the man credit for. Not many could stand his squeaky outbursts. Not even Boris.

"Hmm. Yeah, sorry about that. You see, I just need your help with something." Joey's face grew taught. "Something... rather terrible."

Bendy scoffed. From what he had learned, humans tended to exaggerate a lot. He merely rolled his eyes and stood up, straightening his crooked back. Joey followed suit.

"What'eva," the demon muttered. "Just show me." Joey shook his head, intercepting his path.

"No, not before you promise not to tell anyone under any circumstances." Bendy raised a nonexistent eyebrow.

"Regular promise or demon promise?"

"Demon promise."

The cartoon flicked his tail in surprise. Demanding for a demon promise meant that something ridiculously serious was occurring. Demon promises were almost on par with deals, after all. Both were difficult to manipulate or break out of. Since he was a cartoon, the rules were a bit more lenient for Bendy, but they still applied. It was reckless to agree to one.

But... this was Joey. His creator. The one who made dreams come true. The man was odd, certainly strange, but trustworthy nevertheless.

"I... sure. I promise I will never tell under any circumstances, fair or unfair."

Joey gave the demon a little smile.

"Thank you. Now, follow me."

* * *

No one was inside the studio, albeit Bendy, Boris, and Joey. The machines were off and the lights were dim, making Bendy feel a little tired. He wanted nothing more than to curl inside a pot and let himself ooze into a pile of unconsciousness, but with Joey having a tight grip on his glove, it didn't seem likely to happen soon.

They moved through the halls, Joey remaining uncharacteristically quiet. The demon glanced up at him from time to time, letting out a questioning hum, but the man seemed too preoccupied with his own thoughts. His eyes were now fuzzy, unclear. Another strange human ability.

The duo turned around a corner, facing a large door. Ink streaks were splashed underneath, gushing from under the door. Bendy's points snapped upward. He gave his creator a questioning glance.

"Joey...?"

The man simply gave the demon a tired smile, dragging him toward the door. With a simple motion, he opened it, swept in, and closed it, locking the wooden door. Bendy blinked twice in confusion before gazing at the scene before him.

Boris, the friendly, annoying wolf, was strapped to a table. His entire body was limp and oozing ink, feeding the trail by the door. His eyes were rolled back, his white pupils not visible. Several crimson candles were perched around the poor toon.

"Joey, what da Hell did ya do?!" The demon screeched, his tail curling into a tight ball. Joey gave him a sad glance, shaking his head.

"Only what I had to do. You see, Boris had attacked several of us while you were asleep. The guys demanded that I... put him down, so to speak. I have no choice. If I don't, they'll leave, and without any help, everyone in this room would die." The demon scoffed, clenching his fingers.

"Let me at 'em, then. I can convince 'em, I can." The man gave him a soft smile.

"I know you would try to convince them, Bendy. It's in your nature. But, you're a toon. You know they won't listen to you. Heck, I'm their boss, and they don't listen to a thing I say. Minus Henry, but he's a special case." The man sighed, stooping down so he was staring directly into the demon's beady eyes.

"I know it's not going to be fun. I know you're going to hate it, and going to hate me by the end of all of this. But you need to trust m-"

"The hell do ya even need me for?" The demon interrupted. Joey gave him a flat stare.

"Ah. Well. You see, a mortal cannot take back the gift that the gods have given. I can't just rip out Boris' heart and be done with it. No, the gods would murder me the moment I try to open his chest. You need to do it. The gods recognize you as a being the same as him, and won't strike down for it." Joey gave Bendy a pleading look.

"Please Bendy. Please."

The demon swallowed thickly. On one hand, he didn't want to do it. Even though Boris was annoying as fuck, the wolf was still alive, was still like him. It would be just horrible to cut him open, to rip out his core. On the other hand... this was Joey. He was the creator; his word was law. The creator always, always knew best.

"Sure, I'll... do it."

Joey gave him a satisfied smile and handed him a scalpel.

* * *

The studio opened a few days later. The workers filed in, all beginning to work and work. Except for one, Henry. He was standing, gazing around the room with confused, chocolate eyes. Bendy, who was standing in the corner and puffing his cigar, gave him a glance.

"Eh, what'cha lookin' for, Hen'?" The man gave the demon a troubled look.

"Boris. He usually stands by the door and waits for me to come in. Have you seen him?"

Wait... what? Henry was expecting Boris to be alive?

"What do ya mean? Y'all left him to-" Bendy choked, the demon promise cooing in his ear. It took a moment for the toon to regain his composure. "Well, ah... I haven' seen him around recently." The animator looked still confused, but decided to drop it.

"I gotta go," the demon stated, saluting toward the man. He then scampered away, toward the room where Boris' corpse still lied. The streaks of ink had been swept away and, once the little devil tested the door, it had been locked. There was no evidence of what had happened a few nights ago.

The demon made a wild dash to his creator's office, not caring that he bumped into people a couple of times. When he finally reached the room, he swung the door open, revealing his creator. Joey crunched sharply on Boris' heart-shaped core, giving the demon a broad smile.

"A bit inky, I must say." The man took another bite. "Kinda tastes horrible, actually." He nipped the point of the heart, revealing in the demon's expression while doing so. "It's worth it, though for the immortality."

Bendy stared blankly ahead, watching numbly as his creator cheerfully feasted on his frenemy's core. The demon wish he could shout about what the man was doing, plead for him to stop, but he couldn't. The demon promise held him by the throat, silencing all of his cries. Then, came the bloodlust. He wanted to tear out Joey's own core, see how he would like it.

But Joey was his creator.

He couldn't harm his creator.

He couldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thirty Years Later_

* * *

 **He would.**

 _ **He could.**_

* * *

 _Eyy, thanks for reading. I really appreciate you guys reading my shit. You all don't know how much that means to me. If it wouldn't bother you, would some of you mind to review?_


End file.
